Not Quite
by The Marauder Named Prongs
Summary: Remus attempts to deal with Sirius' imprisonment in Azkaban. To do this, he searches for men who, in some way or another, resemble Sirius. But eventually, he will have to admit what he's done to Sirius. RLSB SLASH! MATURE! Two-Shot.
1. Chapter 1

**My newest Remus/Sirius story. WARNING: Does contain MATURE SLASH. Enjoyyyy!**

Not Quite

Remus Lupin honestly believed that his life could not reach a lower point. He had lost everything he had ever cared about years ago. There were many days when he did not understand why he continued to live. He had no hope of happiness to come in later weeks, months or years. His life, as it had always been, would be a life of torment and injustice. More often than not, he found himself seated in front of a dying fire in his small, gloomy living room drinking deeply from a bottle of firewhiskey. He would sit for hours, staring incessantly at the flickering flames, thinking and remembering and longing for the few happy years his life had seen. There were even times when he could have sworn Sirius' face had appeared in the embers. This, he always blamed on the alcohol when he came to his senses in the morning. Sirius Black was only a fond memory condemned to haunt his every movement for the rest of his life.

He had accepted years ago the fact that he would never see his lover again. He knew Sirius would remain in Azkaban for the rest of his life, however long or short that may be. There was no chance of his release and even slimmer probabilities of his escape. Still, Remus longed for him day in and day out, drowning himself in an onslaught of alcohol and men. More times than he cared to admit, he would loom in muggle bars, searching for any man that even slightly resembled Sirius. He would, either with the aid of alcohol or magic, convince them to accompany him back to his small suburban cottage, where he would only find disappointment when they did not kiss like Sirius kissed, bite like Sirius bit, or fuck like Sirius fucked. No matter how closely they resembled his lover, they could never compete with the real thing. This was a fact Remus knew well, and yet, he could not break his addiction. It was what he needed to make it through.

Some nights, Remus would stay at home and think about Sirius. He would wonder if Sirius still remembered him, or if the Dementors had successfully sucked every last memory of Remus out of the man's head. It would not surprise him, but the very thought of it stabbed into his heart painfully. He would lie in his bed and he would imagine Sirius in his prison cell, going mad as Dementors swooped over him constantly. The image never failed to raise bile in his throat. When it all became too much for him to handle, he would switch his train of thought to a happier track. He would try with all his might to remember his last night with Sirius before he had betrayed the Potters. Each time he tried, he found himself remembering less and less of that night. He could no longer remember the precise way Sirius smelled as his naked body lay atop Remus'. He could no longer hear the words Sirius had whispered in his ear as they had grinded against each other in desperate need. He couldn't even remember the look on Sirius' face as he came deep inside the werewolf. Tears often fell from his lashes at his own lack of memory.

When grief overcame him, he never could find the strength to pull himself out of it. Instead, his mind would float onto graver subjects, such as his lover's betrayal and the fact that Remus was still consumed by him. He felt guilty for still loving Sirius so fucking much even after the man condemned Lily and James Potter to death. He hated himself for loving Sirius Black so much. He felt like he too was betraying Lily and James by still loving the man who killed him. And yet, nothing he ever did could get the man out of his head. It was a curse he could not get rid of. It was just one more emotion to add to his incurable suffering.

He had forgiven Sirius for what he had done a long time ago. He wanted nothing more than to hold him and love him and find peace in his arms. Remus knew it was an unattainable dream, but he could not let it go. He could not move on. For this reason, he found himself in an embarrassingly familiar situation in late July four years after Sirius' imprisonment.

He stumbled over an empty bottle of firewhiskey as he was pushed backwards through the door to his bedroom by another one of his nameless men. He had chosen this one for his medium-length, black tresses that fell around his face almost exactly the way Sirius' had. The man kept him from falling by grabbing his shirt, succeeding in popping off several of its buttons. Unsteady as he was because of the alcohol Remus had continuously bought for him over the last few hours, he managed to keep the werewolf on his feet long enough to make it to Remus' bed. Their lips were locked, and Remus was vaguely annoyed by the number of times the man's teeth scraped his bottom lip. Sirius never kissed him like that. He was pushed into a sitting position on his bed, the man's knees placed haphazardly on either side of his hips. He was certainly not a shy man. He found the skin revealed by the buttons he had broken off of Remus' shirt and quickly dropped his lips to them, leaving a wet trail across the lycanthrope's scarred chest as he fumbled with the rest of the shirt's buttons.

"How'd you get these?" the man questioned as his lips trailed over pearly white expanses of damaged skin.

Remus did not answer. It was none of the man's business. Instead, he distracted him by falling back onto the comforter, pulling the man along with him, where they kissed feverishly for several minutes. The man smelled strongly of vodka. Sirius never smelled like that. Remus did everything he could to push away the voice that constantly compared every man he encountered to Sirius. It was a fruitless attempt, as Remus knew it would be. After all, the whole reason he was doing this was to, in some sick way, feel closer to Sirius.

The man had somehow worked Remus out of his shirt and was quickly advancing on his belt buckle. Remus grasped his hands and pulled him back up. The man sat with his knees on either side of Remus' hips once more, still peering at his scars. Remus dared him to say something about them again. The man kept silent as the werewolf pulled his shirt over his arms and head. He had a slight trace of a toned abdomen. It was not nearly as toned as Sirius' had been, but it was still pleasant to look at. Remus smiled as the man bent over to claim his lips once more. Remus allowed his eyes to drift closed. He secretly pretended it was Sirius who straddled him. He smiled against the lips upon his, even though they didn't kiss him right.

Both men found each other's belts at the same time, working them out of their jeans in unison. Somehow, Remus found himself naked first, though he did not mind. It always went this way with Sirius. This was something he was used to, he thought, as he slowly pulled the other man's jeans over his knees. The man kicked his pants off his feet and onto the floor as Remus crawled to the head of his bed, where he laid his hair angel-spread across the pillow. He saw a smile on the man's lips as he towered over Remus' lying figure. He nudged the lycanthrope's knees apart and nestled his torso there, his face daringly close to Remus' erection. It was only seconds before Remus felt the man's mouth close over him. He looked down, loving how much the scene he witnessed looked like his memories of Sirius. The man's hair that was so similar to Sirius' fell over the man's face to spread across Remus' stomach and thighs. It was just as Remus remembered. He felt his erection throb at the memory.

He tried to focus on what the man did to him, but he could only see and feel what he remembered this to be like when it was Sirius between his legs. He knew this man used more teeth than Sirius ever had, and he licked more than he sucked. That also was not what it would have been like with Sirius. And yet, Remus could not deny that this man knew what he was doing. When Remus allowed himself to drift away from the memories of Sirius and focus on what he was actually feeling, he found he still enjoyed himself more than he had with many others. He pumped his hips into the man's willing mouth in a steady rhythm. It was not long before the lycanthrope was spilling over deep in the man's throat. He bit his lip hard to stop Sirius' name from escaping his lips. His hands wound themselves into the man's hair, pulling tightly as his body shuddered and jerked uncontrollably. He was only vaguely aware of the man's attempts at avoiding a mouthful of Remus. However, Remus' grip on the man's dark hair did not allow him to get away. Sirius had always been glad to swallow Remus' seed. He pretended this man felt the same way. The man finally pulled away, spluttering as Remus' fingers loosened in his hair.

Remus tasted blood as he realized he had bitten down into his lip in his attempts to keep himself from screaming out. The man kissed him, tasting his blood and mixing it with tastes of what Remus had just forced him to drink. The werewolf felt as though this would have been pleasant, endearing even, if Sirius had done it. Because it was done by this man whose name he did not know or care to know, it succeeded in only being mildly awkward. Remus ignored this as he felt the man position his own throbbing need between the lycanthrope's legs. He was silently thankful that the man did not speak. He did not want his dreams shattered by his unfamiliar voice. This would be so much easier if he could simply pretend it was Sirius above him, preparing to push into him.

But it wasn't Sirius, and Remus could only close his eyes tightly, and grit his teeth against the pain of an unprepared entrance. The pain burned deep inside of him as the man unmercifully pushed into him. Remus could hear the man's breathing become more labored as he exerted every ounce of energy he possessed into his own release. Remus bit deeper into his lip to try and quench the pain he was in. He lay immobile upon the bed as the man pushed into him repeatedly, every stroke eliciting from him a soft grunt or moan. His pace quickened and Remus thought he may pass out from the pain of it all, when finally, the man cried out hoarsely, holding himself deep inside the lycanthrope before collapsing on his chest, sweat nearly dripping from his forehead. Remus released his abused lip as the man pulled out of him slowly and rolled off of his torso.

"Brilliant, mate," Remus heard the man say as he turned to the edge of the bed. He was already sitting, preparing to dress. Remus was not hurt by this fact. It was something he was very used to. But it was also something Sirius would have never done. He would have lounged next to the werewolf for hours before drifting off into sleep, wrapped up in each other's arms.

Remus looked at the man's back as he bent to pull up his jeans. The bumps of his spine were clearly visible beneath his skin. It reminded Remus of Sirius. He felt as though he had made a very good choice tonight. This man was one of the closest to Sirius he had ever brought home. Remus smiled slightly at the thought, carefully rolling onto his side to subside the pain the man had left him in.

Several minutes later, the man was fully dressed. Remus had found the energy to lazily drape his sheet over his pelvic area. The man looked back at him, a half-hearted smile playing across his face as he spoke.

"We should do this again sometime," he said, dropping a piece of paper with a series of numbers written on it onto Remus' nightstand. Remus nodded silently, trying to manage a grin. He was not sure whether he failed miserably or not. He assumed his attempt had been a failure when the man turned his back and made to leave the room.

Almost feeling sorry about the way Remus had used him, he propped his head up on his elbow, and said, "Do you need me to call you a cab?"

The man turned back for a moment, his hand on the doorknob. "No," he said, "I'll get home just fine." With that, he was out the door. Remus was left to his own thoughts.

He replayed the night in his head, changing the details that differed from what would have occurred had it really been Sirius with him. In his head, he had just had an amazing night with Sirius Black. He knew it was probably psychologically fucked up to think about these things so carelessly. He knew, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he should not taint his memories of Sirius with fake ones of other men, but it was what kept him sane these days. These falsified memories gave him some happiness, even if it was short-lived. Soon enough, he would have another Sirius-lookalike and he would forget about this one. For the moment, he did not care about the psychological damage he knew he was inflicting upon himself.

He drifted into a nearly-peaceful slumber, waking up hours later with rays of sunlight stinging his eyes, a sheet still thrown haphazardly over his midsection. He looked blearily at the nightstand, feeling as though something significant had happened there. It was with a groggy jolt of memory that he reached out and grasped the small piece of paper in his fingers. Across it was a phone number, with a small, curly cursive written name beneath it. The name was Cyrus. It was with pain in his heart that Remus realized that even the man's name had closely resembled Sirius'.

It was just one more detail that was not quite the real thing.

**There will be a second chapter! I intend it to be sometime during OotP where Remus admits to Sirius what he did during his troubled years after Sirius goes to Azkaban. I'll try to get it out soon! Please REVIEW!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Here is the second and final chapter! I hope you enjoy it, though I'll admit, it's not at all smutty like the previous chapter. It is merely a scene from OotP in which Remus admits what he did when Sirius was in Azkaban. Enjoyyyy!**

**Chapter Two**

Remus Lupin and Sirius Black had been trying with all their might for several months to continue a relationship they had both condemned long ago. It proved more difficult than either had imagined it would be that night in the Shrieking Shack when Remus had finally found the evidence of Sirius' innocence he so desperately needed. In that moment, when he saw Peter Pettigrew on the Marauder's Map, his heart had soared for the first time in over twelve years. He had concocted a large number of romanticized situations where he and Sirius would be together again. They were happy and carefree in his wishful dreams. Even now, over a year later, things had not come anywhere near what Remus had originally hoped for. They were both so different. They had missed so much.

Sirius had returned from Azkaban physically wasted and mentally drained. Remus was not surprised by the sight of him, nor was he bothered by it. He could learn to love this Sirius as much as he had loved his Sirius from years ago. What he had not yet learned to deal with was the constant onslaught of depression from his past lover. He was always so distant, even with Remus. This was not the Sirius Remus knew. The Sirius he remembered had told him everything; every little stupid thing that bothered him. He was comfortable enough in Remus' arms to share everything with him. This man, who loomed around Grimmauld Place like a shadow, did not share anything with the lycanthrope. It was painful, but understandable. Soon enough, Remus knew he would get used to this side of Sirius and maybe even find a way to help him.

But it wasn't only Sirius who was making it so bloody difficult for their relationship to flourish once more. Remus was constantly bombarded with his own horrible feelings of guilt and regret. He had not told Sirius about what he had done for the first six or seven years after his lover had been thrown in prison. He could not bring himself to break Sirius' heart. The man was fragile enough, no matter how much he denied it. Remus felt guilty for what he did and even more so for not having the courage to admit it to Sirius. He was sure, that in time, Sirius would understand why Remus had done the things he had regrettably done. But such shame surrounded that part of the werewolf's life that he kept the memories locked in the back of his mind, where they could only plague him when he was at his weakest. He knew that if there was going to be any kind of hope for himself and Sirius, he would have to admit what he had done and hope that Sirius found it in him to forgive.

He and Sirius had been the only two people staying at Grimmauld Place for several nights. They slept in separate bedrooms, too much tension surrounding them when they shared a room alone for too long. Remus could not fathom what was keeping Sirius so distant, nor did he have the courage to ask him. Simultaneously, Sirius knew something had happened to Remus after he had been locked away. He had a feeling he knew what it may have been. He never confronted Remus, being almost afraid of what he may learn. Somewhere deep in his heart, he was learning how to love the werewolf again. He didn't want to ruin what trust he had forced himself to gain.

But on their fourth night alone, Sirius could stand it no longer. The theories he made up in his head of what may have gone on in Remus' life in his absence were more than likely worse than whatever had really happened. Right? He was sure Remus had never truly been able to believe Sirius had done what he was accused of, but that did not mean Remus had not grieved and even hated him for a time. Sirius was not so naïve as to believe the lycanthrope's life had gone just fine from the moment Sirius went to Azkaban until now. The large amount of grey hair on his head and wrinkles on his young face were enough to confirm this. But there was more. There was something else and Sirius had to know what it was. He didn't care about what kind of pain it may cause him anymore. He had to know.

Sirius gathered up his strength, both mental and physical, and tiptoed down the staircase to the landing beneath his own, pausing outside the door to Remus' room. He could hear nothing from within. Maybe the werewolf was already sleeping. Sirius knew if he walked away now, he would never do it. He _had_ to do this for his own waning sanity. He rapped a knuckle against the door before cracking it open.

"Remus?" he called in quietly. He could see that there was a light on. Good, he thought. At least Remus wasn't sleeping. He opened the door wider, revealing the lycanthrope sitting on his bed, propped up by pillows with a book in his lap. At the sound of his name, he looked up curiously.

"Come in, Sirius," he said gently, placing his book down on his nightstand, careful not to lose his page. Sirius did as he was told, closing the door with a hollow click behind him. There were several seconds of awkward, tense silence before Remus beckoned Sirius to sit on the bed. Again, Sirius obliged. He tried to hide the pain on his face, as his mind continued coming up with theories of what went on in the years he missed. He pushed them out of his conscious mind, looking Remus straight in the eyes. He was determined.

"Can we talk?" Sirius asked, though it was clear he would not be taking no for an answer.

"Of course," Remus replied, looking at the animagus with concerned eyes. "Are you all right, Sirius?" He had asked the man this very question more times than he could count. He never got an honest answer, and yet, he never stopped asking.

Sirius nodded, swallowing visibly. His face contradicted his assurance. Remus raised a knowing eyebrow in his direction. At the look, Sirius' shoulders slumped in defeat. He had to get everything out there so he and Remus could start the repairing process. Everything had to come out. He lowered his head, with a whisper. "No, Rem."

Remus swiftly got over the surprise of Sirius' response. He moved quickly to wrap an arm over Sirius' shoulders. "Talk to me, then," he said, secretly ecstatic to be confided in again.

Sirius fought an internal battle with himself. He suddenly wanted to back out and leave. He wanted to crawl back into his own bed and sleep until these horrible emotions stopped plaguing him. He was well aware that doing this would not solve any of his problems. He looked up at the werewolf again, mustering up the last ounces of his courage.

"I need to know what happened," he said, fighting to keep his voice even. He bore holes into Remus' eyes with his own. "I need to know what went on with you when I was away."

All the color and concern fell rapidly from Remus' face to be replaced by a look of anguish and disgust. "Okay," he replied distantly. His mind was spinning out of control. This had not been what he had been expecting when Sirius stepped hesitantly into his room. He, for some reason, was under the distinct impression that they would be discussing what had happened to _Sirius _while he'd been away. The conversation at hand was not one he was prepared for yet. But he had no right to deny Sirius the information he would find out someday anyways. Remus tried to swallow the lump of shame in his throat as he stared intently at his hands.

Seeing the anguish on Remus' face, Sirius realized that whatever had happened to the werewolf may just be as bad as all the theories he had come up with. Again, he had the urge to back out. He was sure Remus wouldn't mind. But it was too late now. They both knew that.

"What happened, Rem?" Sirius asked softly, his voice betraying his emotions. He wanted to grab the lycanthrope and shake him and make him talk. He wanted to make him admit and regret everything he had done, even if Sirius wasn't completely sure what that was yet.

Remus took a deep, heart-wrenching sigh as he tried and failed to prepare himself for what was to come. "It was really hard for me," he began, still staring down at his fingers. "After you were put away, and James and Lily were dead. I had no one." As if that justified what he had done. "I felt like dying every day. I thought you were a traitor, but my heart couldn't believe it. I couldn't get you out of my head." He could hear the emotion lacing through his words as he said them. He could only hope Sirius noticed it too. He needed Sirius to understand that everything he said was the truth.

Sirius was nodding, though Remus could not see him. He wanted Remus to look up into his eyes as he spoke. In a perverse way, he wanted to see the pain in Remus' eyes as he admitted what he had done. He could already feel tears burning in his throat. He tried to ignore the uncomfortable sensation as Remus continued.

"I spent a long time alone. I didn't see anyone for months and months. I thought I was going mad. I missed you _so much_, Sirius." His fingers clenched together as he said it. He looked up at the man next to him. He knew tears were welling in his eyes, but he did not look away. "It took me a long time to find comfort in anything. I…I did a lot of things I'm not proud of, Sirius. But I thought you were gone. I never imagined I would ever see you again. I had lost the most important and significant thing in my life. My heart was in pieces and no one gave a damn; no one could make me whole again." Not that he hadn't tried to find someone who could. The tears had brimmed and slid silently down his cheeks. He made no attempt to brush them away. He was not nearly as embarrassed about the tears as he was about to be when he admitted all of his failures. For the moment, his throat had clenched closed. He remained silent for as long as Sirius allowed him to.

Seeing the tears fall from Remus' eyes forced Sirius' own out of his throat and into his eyes. The lycanthrope blurred as they welled up and spilled over his lashes. They were both grown men reduced to tears for something Sirius could only guess. He couldn't imagine what would happen when Remus finished speaking.

"What did you find comfort in, Rem?" Sirius persued, trying to keep his voice gentle, though he knew the accusatory tone had not gone unnoticed. Tears fell more rapidly from Remus' eyes. He pressed his lids closed tightly before picking up where he had left off.

"I started drinking a lot," he said thickly, feeling dazed as his lips formed words. "I spent a lot of time in bars. I couldn't find happiness in anything, so I opted for the next best thing. Oblivion." He reopened his eyes, seeing his pain mirrored on Sirius' face. The animagus made to comfort him with an arm around his waist, but Remus pushed it away. "Don't Sirius," he said quietly. "You don't know the half of it yet."

"Then tell me, Remus!" Sirius was suddenly frustrated. Remus was dancing around something. He wanted it out in the open so they could work on healing their problems. He needed to know.

Several seconds of tense silence ensued as Remus gathered his thoughts and prepared coherent sentences. With another great breath, he went on. "There were a lot of men, Sirius," he admitted, his tears flowing in torrents down his face and neck. "Nameless men with your eyes, men with your hair, or even men who merely laughed like you." His throat threatened to close up again with emotion, but Remus pushed out one last statement before it did. "I needed to be able to close my eyes and pretend you were with me." It was no justification for the great numbers of bodies his past had seen, but it was honesty.

Everything Sirius had assumed had just been confirmed, though he had not quite been prepared for the explanation behind Remus' actions. Somehow, he knew in his gut that the lycanthrope was not lying. Against his better judgment, he pulled Remus against his side, holding him tightly. He wanted Remus to believe that everything was okay, even though it really wasn't. Together, they let their emotions temporarily take over.

Sirius was the first to recover. "How many, Remus?" The werewolf looked up at him, desperation written all over his face. He didn't want to answer. He didn't want Sirius to know, but Sirius wasn't going to let this go. "How many, Remus?" he repeated, his voice firm.

His voice was barely audible, drowning in powerful emotion. "I don't know."

Sirius was temporarily dumbstruck, but he found his voice quickly. His tears had stopped long ago. Now, his sadness was displayed in every fiber of his body. His shoulders sagged, his legs shook and his eyes drooped closed. He brought a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose in much the same way Remus used to when Sirius and James had gone too far with a prank in school. He forced his vocal chords to work. "You don't know because you didn't keep track, or you don't know because you _could_n't keep track?"

Remus pressed his palms into his eyes, trying to quell his tears. He was too old for this. He was too old to weep openly over something he could not change. If it had been anyone but Sirius beside him, he would have admitted his short-comings and let those who wanted to judge him judge him. It just wasn't the same when he knew he was hurting the one and only man he had ever truly loved.

"There were too many to keep track," Remus responded boldly. "Several a month for nearly six years. I don't think I could even attempt to guess." He squared his shoulders and looked directly into Sirius' deep grey eyes. He knew there was pain hidden somewhere in them, but Sirius would not allow him to see it anymore. He was steeling himself against the werewolf. It was in that moment that he realized all the progress they had made was slowly slipping away. They would have to start from scratch all over again.

Sirius nodded once in Remus' direction, averting his eyes. It was hard to look at the lycanthrope. A part of Sirius' mind that he blamed for all the rash things he had ever done was disgusted with the werewolf. It screamed in Sirius' ear that he was unclean and unfaithful. It tried to convince Sirius that Remus could never be forgiven for what he had done. He had not been loyal to Sirius. But the rational part of the animagus' mind was quick to counter. Remus had been living in mental devastation. He didn't believe he would ever see Sirius again. He had no one to be faithful to. And on top of all that, the men Remus found comfort in were all chosen because of their likenesses to Sirius. In a sick way, Sirius felt a surge of affection for the werewolf.

Remus could not stop repeating the words "I'm sorry". Sirius hardly heard them. He took the lycanthrope's hands in his own and attempted to smile. "It's okay, Moony," he said, hoping the nickname would calm the man next to him down. "I won't sit here and pretend like everything is fine," Sirius started, "but I'm trying to be understanding. I'm not happy about what you did, but I have no right to hold it against you. You weren't hurting anyone then, and you never thought you would hurt me later. You did what you had to do to make it through the day." He paused, staring deep into the amber eyes of his past-lover. "I know what that feels like. I know what it can do to a person." He inwardly shivered as memories of bone-chilling cold, depression and quickly deteriorating sanity played in his mind. Desperation can do a lot to a person.

It was within the span of a second that Remus enveloped him in a tight embrace. They held each other for what felt like an eternity. Just knowing that they could still hold on to each other as their hearts bled mercilessly was a comfort all on its own. To know that they had jumped another hurtle and would continue to do so was more than either man had hoped for when this conversation started. Even Sirius was surprised at how well he was holding up after what he had learned. Maybe, this was the cause of the fact that he already had an idea of what Remus had done in their time apart. Somewhere in his mind, Sirius was already prepared for what he confirmed tonight. He had forgiven Remus before he had proof that the lycanthrope needed to be forgiven.

From here, things could only go up. Just as Sirius had wanted, everything was out on the table now. They could only improve their relationship now. With a great, shaking sigh, Sirius released the werewolf and stood from the bed. He was likely to explode if he was bombarded with anymore emotion at the moment.

"Get some sleep, Rem," he said as he took slow steps towards the door. "Things'll be okay."

Remus nodded as he also stood from his bed. "Stay here tonight, Sirius," he requested gently.

Sirius turned away from the door. He had been just about to grasp the doorknob. He wasn't sure if this was the best idea. Internally, he warred with himself. Should he stay, or would that just make matters worse? At the moment, he could handle what had been thrown at him. But what about tomorrow morning? Would he be able to hold it together tomorrow? He supposed there was only one way to find out.

"All right," Sirius replied, tracing his steps back to the bed. He had not slept beside Remus in many years, though for the last year or so, that was because Remus would not allow him to. Just hearing that Remus wanted him here was enough to allow a glowing bubble of hope to erupt in his heart. In the moment that he lowered himself in to the bed beside the tawny man he had never stopped loving, he knew everything would be okay in time. They were going to make it through this, just as they had made it through everything else.

**I hope you liked it. I know this wasn't nearly as exciting as the first chapter. Terribly sorry, but it's now over, unless for some reason or other I get the inspiration to continue with something else. That's unlikely though. Shoot me a review to tell me what you think =]**


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